Haven't I Been Here Before?
by Tuxedo Elf
Summary: Everything has changed again and Dick has some hard decisions to make. Set after Endgame, so beware spoilers.


Apologies to those waiting on updates for Rising Star and Tears are Forever. My inspiration dried up, so I wrote this to help me get back into the swing of things! Bear with me. They are coming!

I honestly don't know if I'm happy with this or not. Most of it was written on trains to and from London last week! With that in mind, constructive criticism is more than welcomed!

Follow me on tumblr: tuxedoelf

Haven't I been here before?

Xxxxxxxxx

He wasn't sure why he'd come back to Spyral. Why he'd returned to the place that gave him a number instead of a name, where he was isolated and expendable. He supposed he hadn't known where else to go. He had no home any more, nowhere he belonged. And now the last thread to his old life had been cut. Logic told him it wasn't his fault. His heart said otherwise.

Though the battle itself was a fuzzy memory at best, he remembered the aftermath clearly. After he'd regained consciousness and crawled away from the fight before the others saw him, he'd waited for Bruce to make contact again.

Except he hadn't. He'd heard the desperate pleas of Penny-Two and known that there was no way he'd get there in time. He'd barely been able to stand, let alone run. It hadn't stopped him trying, of course, he'd nearly killed himself in his desperate effort. But he hadn't made it, hadn't been there at the end. Bruce had died alone, with only the Joker for company.

The guilt ate him up from inside. Bruce had been there for him when it seemed his life was about to end and he hadn't even been able to return the favour. And what made it worse, was that he wasn't the first time.

He'd thought that nothing could feel as bad as the last time he'd lost Bruce. That it couldn't possibly hurt more. But then, he'd never imagined a world where he was completely cut off from everyone he loved. Where Bruce was his only connection to everything that mattered to him. This time, there was nothing to distract him from the soul-consuming grief. No one to pick him up, to give him the will to fight on. The others – they'd survive, they had each other. What did he have?

Perhaps he should have stayed. Shown himself, told the truth. But the need to keep them safe still held him back. What if it was the wrong thing?

Sinking down on the bed in his bare, sparse room, Dick wrapped his arms around his chest, as if physically trying to hold himself together. Glancing across the room, his eyes fell on the digital clock radio, the one he'd rewired inside to be his transmitter to Bruce. Useless now, with no one at the other end waiting for his call. Closing his eyes tightly, he tried to fight back the burning tears, to just... breathe and calm himself. To be the man Bruce had raised him to be. To be strong, even though he was broken inside.

It took all his will not to snarl when the knock came at the door. He didn't want to see these people, didn't want to have to put on a brave face and pretend everything was fine because most of them had no idea who he was or had been.

"Come in." He willed himself to hold it together for whatever this was.

The door swung open and Helena stepped in. "Dick."

He looked at her, hearing so much conveyed in the simple utterance of his name. She knew. Oh, she knew. And it was almost a relief.

"You okay?" She asked, sitting down beside him, her usually stern voice soft.

He blinked once, twice, before daring to speak. "No."

And that was all it took, that one word. The walls came crashing down and no amount of closing his eyes could hold back the tears. He turned away, broken, embarrassed and hurting as the tears flowed, but she didn't move, just rested a hand on his shoulder and let him cry.

The hand was still there a while later, when he was finally able to regain control of himself, taking long, shaky breaths as he calmed the sea of emotions.

"Better?" She asked, when the silence grew too long.

Dick nodded. "Yeah... yeah. Sorry Helena. Hardly super-spy behaviour."

The corner of her mouth quirked in a sardonic smile. "Happens to the best of us."

"Even you?"

"A long time ago."

The thought crossed his mind that it sounded like something Bruce would have said and his gut twisted.

"This isn't... even the first time that I... that he..." Dick found himself unable to finish the sentence.

She nodded. "I know."

That surprised him, though only for a second. Of course she knew. Spyral knowing too much was why he'd come here.

"It's different this time."

She nodded again. "I know that too."

He sighed, trying to think, but finding it impossible. Things had always been complicated but this changed everything - again. "What do I do?"

She was silent for a long time. Spyral was in transition – with Minos gone, she had found herself as head of the secret organisation and a woman in her position needed people she could depend on. Dick was still new, yet had shown the potential to be one of, if not **the** best spy in the game. She'd spent years putting the job first, regardless of the cost. Yet she knew Dick was different, that manipulating him would only end badly for all. And perhaps, just this once, she didn't want to.

"The right thing, Dick. You do the right thing."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

She gave him a plane.

It was safer, she'd said, than trying to get on a regular flight. The last thing he needed right now was anyone casting suspicion on his identity. Dick Grayson was still officially dead and that was for the best right now.

Her help surprised him. She'd always seemed so dedicated to her work, putting personal concerns second. Yet she'd let him go, almost without thought. He was going to have to repay her for that, one day.

There was even an agent and a car waiting for him when he landed at the private airfield some forty miles outside of Gotham. A part of him wondered if this was a ploy, if she wanted him to be here, but he cast the thought aside. She'd earned the benefit of the doubt.

The drive to the cave seemed to take forever. It seemed like years since he'd been in Gotham, but really it had been just over a week.

The cave was deserted when he arrived, which was a surprise as well as a relief. It gave him more time to plan what he was going to say, how he was going to explain. Still, where was everyone? Logging into the caves systems, he checked on them.

Babs was back at her place at Burnside, trying to go to classes and act normally. Jason he couldn't find, but that was normal enough - he had a habit of going to ground after distressing events, it was how he coped. He'd surface eventually. Tim and - Oh God - Damian - were staying with the Titans.

Damian. He knew he was back, that his return had been interesting to say the least. But he hadn't seen him. His last memory of Damian was still of his cold, bloodied body. Something stirred in him then, the tiniest smile, a hint of joy at knowing at least one miracle had been given to him. He'd see him soon. Even when Bruce had been gone before, having Damian as his Robin made it bearable. More than bearable. Made it good. Maybe... maybe it could be good again, if Damian didn't hate him for being gone. That thought dulled the joy. Damian loved deeply but hated deeper.

Still... time would tell.

A quick check of the cave confirmed that no one had been here in several days. And there was no point going upstairs, nor did he want to. He didn't want to see what had become of the home he'd grown up in.

Instead, he grabbed a handful of equipment, ignored his own memorial case and got back in the car, heading towards where Alfred and Julia were living.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He crept in, not feeling comfortable simply ringing the doorbell. Her security was decent, but he'd broken into better.

"Please, Dad," he heard her beg. "Let them fix your hand, please."

The voice that answered sounded so frail it broke his heart.

"I told you, Julia, there is no point. There is no one to mend, no one to serve. Let me be."

How could that be Alfred? Alfred was old, certainly, but strong, determined, unbending. But then, he'd just lost Bruce for the second time. He knew that could break anyone.

He took a deep breath, tried to steady his voice. "I dunno, Alfie, you know me, always getting into scrapes..."

He saw the old man freeze, grip the side of his chair with his remaining hand. Stepping in a little more, he hardly dared breathe as he waited for Alfred to say something - anything.

Alfred turned agonisingly slowly. His face was pale and his eyes wide with shock as he took in the figure in the doorway. "Master Dick..." He shook his head, not believing it, not daring to believe it. "No, it can't be..."

"It's me, Alf..." Dick could feel his heart racing as he stepped closer, felt his resolve crumble again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

"Oh..." Alfred's low cry was unlike anything he'd heard from the man before. "Come here..." He reached out to Dick with both arms.

It was a testament to everything he'd been through that he offered affection so openly, dropping the stoic demeanour he'd always been known for. Dick wrapped his arms around Alfred, the relief at seeing him beyond words.

"Is it really you, Master Dick?" Alfred whispered, feeling the solid body against him, the tentative hope in his voice tearing into Dick's soul.

He nodded. "Yes... forgive me, Alfred, I never meant to hurt you. I was trying to keep you safe, keep everyone safe, but I failed..."

"Hush, lad." Alfred's voice was soft, but Dick was struck by the change in tone. It sounded like *Alfred* again. "You're here. Nothing else matters."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Julia step away, leaving them to their moment. He'd talk to her later, get to know her properly, but it could wait. He'd missed Alfred so much, the man was like a Grandfather to him.

"Just one thing... please, Alf. Let them give you back your hand. We... I still need you."

There was a pause, in which Dick truly feared that Alfred would refuse. But finally the old man pulled back, looking at Dick with eyes that were still sharp as he nodded. "As you wish, my boy. As you wish."

No one commented on Julia's gasp of relief.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After recovering from the shock of seeing Dick alive and well, Julia had made them all tea and the three of them were gathered around Alfred's chair as Dick told them where he'd been.

"You were never dead then..." Julia seemed incredulous.

"Not really... just for a few minutes." He sighed. "Bruce... convinced me that this was for the best. That you were all safer not knowing."

"Safer perhaps," Alfred conceded, "but certainly no happier. You have been missed."

"I've missed you too... so much, Alfie."

"So what brings you back now?" Julia's voice was laced with suspicion and Dick couldn't blame her.

"I... made a promise."

She frowned. "What was it?"

Dick closed his eyes, remembered the feeling of kevlar and leather, of a cowl over his head, seeing the world through the lenses of a mask. He felt Alfred's hand cover his and squeeze gently. "That there would always be a Batman in Gotham."

"Excuse me?" Julia's face darkened with anger. "You can't just replace Batman."

"I can't replace Bruce, that's true," Dick replied quietly. "But I can, I will, replace Batman." He smiled sadly. "Wouldn't be the first time."

She snorted. "You expect me to believe that?"

"It's true, my dear," Alfred sighed softly. "We have lost Master Bruce before and Master Dick stepped into his cowl." his voice faltered at the end, the sadness of going through this again almost too much to bear.

"For a whole year," he said sadly. "And no one noticed last week. I fought alongside the others and no one even noticed it was me, not Bruce in the cowl. He was in the caves the whole time."

"That was you?"

He nodded, as did Alfred, who had immediately understood, leaving her little choice but to try and accept it.

"Bloody hell." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but this is crazy. You were dead, now Bruce is dead and you're not? What the hell?"

"I know. And I wish... I wish I'd never had to make everyone believe I was dead. Especially now. I don't know if they'll even want me back."

"Well, you're about to find out," Julia snapped. "I'm calling them." She turned smartly on her heel and walked out.

"I don't think she likes me..." Dick bit his lip.

"Give her time. She doesn't like being deceived."

"Who does? What about you, Alfie? Are you angry?" He looked almost fearfully at Alfred.

"I'm quite sure I should be, Master Dick. But truthfully I am far too happy to see you alive to feel anything else." He wiped a tear from his eye and Dick hugged him again.

"Thanks, Alfie. I'll... make it right. I don't know how, but I will. With everyone."

Alfred nodded and looked up as Julia returned. "Tim, Barbara and Damian are on their way." She glared at Dick. "I haven't told them why. Not my place."

"Damian..." Dick let out a breath. "I can't believe I'm going to see him... I haven't since... well... you know..."

"I know, my boy." Alfred pulled himself up in his seat. "I... am unsure as to how he will take your return. He took news of your death rather hard. " Alfred remembered it clearly, joy, marred by grief. Again. "He asked for you after his return... Master Bruce wouldn't tell him. Then he... saw the case in the Cave. He... smashed it to smithereens and we didn't see him for the rest of the day. Master Bruce was beside himself. "

"Wow." Guilt was becoming an emotion he was far too familiar with. "I... I didn't know. I didn't have much information, only that he was... back."

"It seems we are destined never to be whole again. We lose as fast as we gain. I beg of you, Master Dick, do not get yourself killed again. I could not stand it."

"I'll do my best, Alfie... I promise." But they both knew that the life they led had no guarantees. The doorbell rang then and Dick tensed. Alfred had taken his return well, but would the others?

He listened intently as Julia opened the door and greeted the new arrival. Another female voice answered her and his heart skipped a beat. Oh god. Babs.

"In there," Julia said. "My Dad has a - visitor."

Dick held his breath and a moment later Babs stepped into the room - and saw him standing there."

She froze, her eyes going wide in shock. "Dick... but... how?"

"Long story... I... I'll explain when the others get here, okay? But... it's me. I'm here." He didn't think he could keep telling the sordid tale over and over again.

She nodded, taking it all in. Oh... Dick..." She leapt forward in an instant, throwing herself into his arms.

He caught her, holding her tight and praying to any deity that might be listening that she didn't hate him when she learned the truth. "Missed you Babs... " seeing her from afar, knowing she thought he was Bruce, just hadn't been the same. How could it be?

"Missed you too," she murmured, resting her head against his chest.

He couldn't help himself. "I'm sorry."

She tensed and he instinctively tightened his hold, not wanting to let her go. She wasn't stupid, she knew all wasn't as it seemed, but she remained there, listening to his heartbeat.

They were still there a few minutes later when the doorbell rang again. This time it was Dick who tensed, reluctantly stepping away from Babs.

"What's going on, Julia?" Tim's voice sounded clearly in the hallway. "You know how I feel about cryptic messages."

"That's because you are not intelligent enough to figure them out, Drake."

Damian's voice, clear, sarcastic and irritated, was, in that moment, the most perfect sound he'd ever heard. He bit his lip so hard it bled and he felt Barbara put her hand on his arm. "He's missed you, too."

"Stop fighting," Julia snapped. "Just go in and you'll see."

Tim sighed and rolled his eyes as Damian pushed past.

Two seconds later he crashed into him when he stopped without warning. "What the hell," He began, but then he saw who was standing in the room.

"Tim..." Dick acknowledged, but his eyes were glued on one person. Damian.

"Grayson..." Damian's voice was a whisper. He didn't move.

Dick didn't either. He felt rooted to the spot, just looking at Damian and feeling the nightmarish memories of his broken and bloodied body finally, FINALLY fade into the background. Knowing he was alive was one thing. Seeing it... "Dami..."

"They told me you were dead." Damian said finally. It was strange and a little heartbreaking to see him edge minutely towards Tim, who was, at least, a constant.

"You too, Dami," His voice cracked and he wondered if he'd ever be able to cry again after today. "I can't believe you're here..."

Damian stepped forward slowly, coming to stand in front of him. He stood, silently and then Dick gasped as small but strong arms wrapped around his waist. Damian was **hugging** him. It almost made it all worth it. Almost.

"I am... glad you are not dead, Grayson."

"Ditto that, Dami..." he murmured, wrapping his arms around the boy in one perfect moment.

"So... Alive again..." Tim's voice wasn't as warm and shattered the happiness he felt from having Damian here.

Looking up, Dick found the younger hero looking at him with mixed emotions. Perhaps that was to be expected. Tim had lived a whirlwind of death and rebirth these past few years. It probably didn't surprise him any more.

"Yeah... It's complicated."

"Isn't it always..." Tim hadn't moved towards him and Dick wondered if he'd figured it out. It was his speciality, after all. "I think you'd better start talking."

Dick nodded. "Is Jay coming?" He asked, trying to prolong the moment.

"Don't know. Maybe." Tim's usually calm and controlled voice was stiff and on edge.

"Sit, all of you." Alfred's voice, determined and firm again, cut through the silence. "Let us discuss the situation in a civilised manner."

No one argued, instead cramming themselves onto the two small sofas. Dick found himself with Barbara on one side and Damian on the other, which, he supposed, could end very well or very badly, depending on their reactions.

He looked around the room, Tim opposite him looking suspicious, Alfred looking back at him, while Julia perched next to Tim. "Okay, well... I was dead just... only for a few minutes..." he didn't look at any of them as he explained how he'd been saved, how Bruce had convinced him to stay dead and sent him off to Spyral. And, eventually, how it had been him under the cowl in that last battle before falling silent and waiting.

"You bastard." The voice, surprisingly, didn't come from Tim, as he'd expected. It came from Jason, who had slipped in unnoticed at some point in the tale and had been lurking unseen at the back of the room.

Dick jumped up, turning to face him. "Jason... I..."

"Save it," Jason snapped. "You and Bruce, you're as bad as each other. Is he even dead this time?"

"Jason!" Barbara glared at him for even daring to suggest it.

"As far as I know..." Dick looked away, wishing it was otherwise. "Jason, I am so sorry... I just wanted to keep you all safe... I still do."

"You think we can't handle ourselves? You think death is something to **play** with?"

He should have seen it coming. But perhaps hope had blinded him and he didn't move fast enough to stop Jason's fist connecting with his jaw. A moment later he was on the floor, holding his face and listening to Alfred berating Jason for the violence.

"'S okay, Alfie," he mumbled, waiting for the room to stop spinning before checking to see if anything was broken. "I deserved it."

"Damn right you did," Jason seethed. "What the fuck, Dick? You of all people should have known how much damn pain is caused by a death."

"I did - I do." He got up slowly. "Believe what you like, but it's destroyed me knowing what I've put you through. "I hate myself for that, no matter the reasons."

"Yeah, I hate you too." Jason looked at Dick in utter disgust. "I'm out of here." Going to the window, he jumped out before anyone could stop him.

"Jason..." Dick called after him, though he knew it was pointless.

Alfred sighed. "Give him time, Master Dick. He'll come around."

"I hope so. And... the rest of you?" he asked anxiously. They were still here but would they stay?

"I don't know, Dick." Tim looked at the window Jason had left from. "I want to but... it hurts. I'll try, I guess."

"That's enough, Tim, I... I'll try and make it better, I promise." He reached out to put his hand on Tim's shoulder for a moment.

Tim allowed it, but then moved away. "Are you taking up the mantle?"

"That's... yeah." Dick looked awkward. "I promised him I would..."

Tim nodded, saying nothing as he turned away.

Sensing the conversation was over for now, Dick turned reluctantly to Barbara. "Babs?"

She looked up, meeting his gaze. "I... I should probably hate you for putting us through all that. For lying. Part of me probably does. But... mostly I'm just happy that you're not dead. Promise me you'll never do that again though. I won't, I can't, forgive it again." 

"I promise." And he smiled as he found her back in his arms. "Thank you."

"Welcome," She mumbled, her face buried in his chest.

He let her stay there and looked over her to where Damian had been extremely quiet. "Dami?"

The boy folded his arms and stared at Dick with an unreadable expression. "I suppose, under the circumstances, I can see why you and father took that course of action." There was the slightest hesitation as he spoke of Bruce. "It was a... prudent decision."

Well, that was unexpected.

"However," Damian continued, "I agree with Gordon. You will not do that again. If you do, I will kill you myself."

Dick struggled not to laugh. "Fair enough." He didn't doubt Damian's sincerity. "It won't come to that though. I couldn't stand it any more than you."

"See that it doesn't," Damian replied haughtily. But then he let Dick pull him into the embrace with Barbara and didn't threaten to so much as maim him.

Dick smiled. Alfred, Barbara and Damian were glad to see him. Tim would hopefully come around and Jason – well, he'd never been easy. It was a start.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Pulling the cowl over his face, Dick stopped, wondering at how odd, yet right it felt. Not counting that battle it had been a long time since he'd worn a mask or a costume. Yet now, with the cowl covering his face, it felt like he'd never been away. He knew he didn't need it really – Dick Grayson was legally dead and he still had the hypnos to protect him from unmaskings. Yet it was too much a part of Batman to consider changing it.

He missed Bruce. He missed him so much it was like a physical wound, one that would never fully heal. But they'd carried on before and would do again. There would always be a Batman in Gotham.

"Ready, Batman?" Robin approached him and he felt a surge of joy at seeing him in uniform again.

"Of course." he smiled, jumping into the car. "Just like old times, hmm?"

Robin made a noise, but then paused, an almost-smile on his lips. "I told you... before. You have always been my favourite partner. We were the best. We can be again. I fully expect it."

It was exactly what he needed to hear. They were great together. It already felt completely natural. The sense of deja vu wasn't worrying, it was comforting. This **was** the right thing.

"Could Batman and Robin be anything else? Come on, let's let them know we're back."

Seatbelts clicked, engines roared and the Batmobile raced from the cave, an oddly smiling Batman at the wheel.

He was home.

 **END**


End file.
